Dawn
by Sousaphone
Summary: Alicia goes away for a weekend alone and laments on her life and her choices. Not sure where it's going, but both Peter and Will shall feature.
1. Chapter 1

D A W N

So this is my new story. I apologize first, for not writing in so long, and – prepare yourselves – here comes the life story. Long story short, I fell in love, and it stopped me from writing, funnily enough, because I no longer needed an escape. But that came to an end and I didn't know how to cope and I've been struggling for a while. Today, reading a romance novel (my first since the break up) I was sparked into an idea and I had to write it down, and here it is. I don't know where it's going, I'm working it out step by step. It may be a carry on from one of my last stories, it might not, I do not know. All I know is that I am writing, and this is good. I'm sorry if my technique is lacking, again, it has been a while.

I hope you like it.

x

. . . . . . . . . .

"Fuckity fuck fuck fuck."

Alicia allowed her head to rest momentarily on the steering wheel before she lifted it again to contemplate her situation. The rain she'd encountered on her drive up to the old house from Chicago hadn't lessened as she had hoped, rather it had gotten harsher. She calculated it would only take seconds for her to be soaked through to her underwear. Why couldn't the old house have a garage? Or even a carport? No, that would have been logical. Instead, you were supposed to park in the driveway and walk the good thirty yards to the front door. It wouldn't have been a problem if it were sunny, but no, it couldn't be sunny. Of course not. She couldn't catch a break.

With a sigh, Alicia looked down to the piles of paper and files she'd taken away to look over during her weekend away and decided there wouldn't be much point trying to get them into the house now. Why had she bothered? She could've been in some nice hotel in New York right now, sipping on expensive wine and reading her notes in the comfort of some overly expensive chair. Hell, she could be in the comfort of her own bed. But no, she was here, in the middle-of-nowhere Wisconsin, stuck in a car by monstrous weather.

"Fuck," she muttered again.

She sucked in a deep breath and began fishing in her handbag for the house keys. She wasn't exactly going to sleep in the car, was she? It would be what, ten, fifteen seconds of horrible awful, then she'd be able to have a hot shower, maybe even a bath, then cuddle up in front of the fire. She'd leave the files and notes and her bags in the boot until tomorrow.

Another deep breath, then Alicia chucked open the door of the car and rushed up the cobblestone path. By the time she got inside she was soaked right through, as she had estimated she would be, and already starting to get a chill. It only took her a few moments of debate before she pealed off her wet clothing and wandered to try and find a bathroom.

It had been years since she'd been to the old house. It had been a wedding present, of sorts, from Peter. They'd bought it with plans to fix it up – not that it had been in too bad repair – and spend the holidays up there with the kids. It had happened, she remembered, in the early years. Alicia could still see her kids, still crawling, sliding their way around on the hardwood as she walked on it in barefeet. It really was a beautiful house. She didn't know why they'd stopped going on there. Too busy she supposed. Peter with politics, her with the kids. And then Peter had cheated on her and she hadn't wanted to return.

The bathroom had to be one of the many doors off the hallway, she questioned, pulling open doors at random. She was sure the one at the end was it, but as she yanked it open, she found it just a closet. The big house had far too much storage. She found a blanket inside and wrapped it around herself as she continued.

Finally she located an ensuite.

With a sigh of relief she turned on the shower to the hottest it would go. The room immediately filled with steam and Alicia sighed again. She dropped the blanket to the ground, then her underwear, and stepped under the water's hot stream.

"Oh thank God," she sighed, running her fingers through her hair. Moment by moment she felt her muscles relax, her knots untangle. Funny how much better some hot water could make you feel.

Okay, maybe her week away at the old house wouldn't be so bad. It wasn't like it was a horrible property. In fact, it was beautiful. It was three stories of well restored, 18th Century coastal Mansion, the type of building you'd expect to find on the Hamptons. Well, maybe not the Hamptons, but somewhere of the same character with a little bit less money. It was right on Lake Michigan and enjoyed stunning views from every level. She was just a little bit sad that she was there to say goodbye. Going into summer it'd be up on the market, which, really, should have happened years ago. But it had been silently decided that they'd hold onto it for a little bit longer. But that little bit was over, Alicia supposed sadly, and there was nothing she could do about it. It wasn't like she could buy it, she had no money, and she couldn't exactly ask Peter to keep it after he'd paid her partnership fees at Lockhart and Gardner. No, there was nothing she could do to hold onto the old house, so she'd just make the most of it while she could. She wondered if she couldn't bring the kids up one last time at the start of summer, before she had to hand over the keys to somebody new.

Alicia flicked off the water while it still ran hot and stepped out into the steam-filled bathroom. The mirror had fogged over and she wiped it with one of the many towels in order to look at herself. She didn't look all that bad – she had to admit – for her age. In fact, she looked pretty damn good. Her stomach was tight, her boobs perky enough and her legs still had a small gap between the thighs. Yeah, she looked pretty damn good.

She pulled up her undies, left her bra on the floor, and wrapped the blanket around her once more to go find the lounge. At least she knew where that was.

. . . . . . . . . .

Please, please, please, PLEASE tell me what you think. xoxo


	2. Chapter 2

Second Chapter is UP. Yay! Sorry it took me so long. Read and enjoy. Oh, and I apologize greatly for my spelling/grammar/general lack of being able to proofread.

I hope you like it.

x

. . . . . . . . . .

The sun streamed through the windows of the old master bedroom, its rays soft and welcoming. Alicia woke with a smile on her face and reached her limbs out to stretch. She hadn't had such an excellent sleep in, well, years. There was no sound of traffic, but rather the comforting racket of rain hitting the bones of the old house. And now the rain had stopped.

Reluctantly, but still with a smile on her face, Alicia tossed off the covers and stood, giving a salute to the sun. She padded over the hardwood floor to look out the window and the lake.

Beauty, pure beauty. The beach looked a little worse for wear, debris from the storm scattered over its sand. But the lake itself, it glistened in the early morning sun. Alicia promised herself a walk on the beach before the day of through, but first, work.

She went to find a dressing gown to slip on and found an old silk robe of hers still hanging in the wardrobe. She thanked the God she didn't believe in before making her way down to the kitchen. If she was going to work, she'd need coffee.

The coffee was good, and she managed at least four cups of it as she read through her files. She considered it an easy one – the case she was working – but that didn't mean she shouldn't know it inside and out. The girl, their client, was innocent. Simple as that. All she had to do was prove it, and that, she knew, shouldn't be too difficult either. Not only was there barely any evidence, but the cops had cut corners as well. A first year could win it.

"Touchwood," she murmured to herself, flipping over another page, taking another sip of coffee.

When the woods started to become blurs Alicia decided it was time for a walk. She wrapped on a scarf, slipping on her coat, and went around locking up the house. She didn't care if people around here left their houses unlocked, that was their business, but she certainly wasn't going to. Not only was their expensive stuff in that house, but there were confidential files spread all over the breakfast bar that she couldn't be assed cleaning up and putting away.

The beach was calm and the sun not too bright as Alicia made her way across it. For noon, she'd expected it to be busier, kids playing and dogs barking, but no. Alicia felt just as alone as always, not that she minded it. She knew the whole 'you need people in your life' thing, but she wasn't sure she'd always agreed. The only people she'd ever had had let her down, where were all the friends she'd had when she'd been happily married to Peter? Gone. They'd left as soon as the scandal had begun, started whispering about her rather than to her. But who needed them anyway? She had her brother. She laughed at that, out loud. How sad, that the only person she had was her brother. And Kalinda, she supposed. She liked Kalinda. And Peter. And Will. She sighed a little at just the thought of Will.

And she shut the thought off immediately.

Her and Will were just friends. Nothing more. Perhaps less. Alicia didn't know. All she knew was that she liked him, but she didn't, and she liked Peter, but she didn't. And she really just didn't have the time, patience or emotional stability to try and work out which one she preferred. Either way, her and Will were almost certainly never going to happen. They'd tried once and look where that had gotten them. Best to just stay away.

But that was damn hard to do.

She wrapped her arms around her as a cold breeze struck her. It was all so picturesque. In the distance she could see a couple walking hand-in-hand, a dog running off in front of them. She'd always wanted a dog, other than her hatred of them. They were so cute, and so protective, and if she were to ever live alone she would certainly get one, but at the same time they were so… annoying. Somewhat like children she supposed with a laugh.

Yet when the puppy reached her, she couldn't help but squat down to scratch behind his ear. He certainly was adorable. And when his owners caught up, she even managed a polite conversation of small talk with them. She'd made it one of her New Years' resolutions to be nicer to people. The problem: she didn't _like_ people. But she was trying. And the young couple – Annette and Jeff – seemed lovely. As they walked away she made a silent prayer that she'd never meet them again and felt instantly horrible.

Maybe she just wasn't meant to be social.

She turned around and started to walk back to the house, but made a last minute decision to walk back through the small town, maybe pick up some supplies.

The only supplies she managed phone numbers for the two places in town that delivered and a cup of coffee that tasted only a tad better than what she made herself. But she managed conversations with multiple annoyingly happy people, and that was a plus. Still, the thought made her want wine.

She slipped off the coat she'd slipped on and hung it on the back of one of the kitchen stools, then checked the time. It was two o'clock, past lunch, therefore totally acceptable to drink. And if she had the drink with lunch, then it was just a drink with lunch, and that was definitely socially acceptable.

She picked out a bottle of pinot from the large collection the house held and poured herself a generous glass. A smell, a swirl and a sip told her it was likely expensive and certainly delicious.

Out of the fridge she grabbed some peppers and started chopping them up, added some tomato, then some herbs. And then, out of proof of her total inability to cook, she put some canned soup on the stove and added in her vegetables. She wasn't totally hopeless. And to finish off, she poured some wine into the mix, because, why not?

The produced concoction wasn't particularly horrible. It wasn't Master Chef material, but it was good. Certainly good enough to quiet her rumbling tummy. And then she could get back to work.

Work lasted all of a few seconds.

Pouring herself another glass of wine, Alicia decided to call Kalinda. See if she had anything interesting to add.

"Hello."

"Hey Kalinda," Alicia smiled, swirling her wine in the glass.

"Alicia."

Such the conversationalist, Alicia thought with an eye roll and a smile. How much had she had to drink? She only eye-rolled when she'd been drinking, or when she was really pissed off. She thought about it, no, she wasn't angry.

"Got anything on Tremain?"

"Tremain?"

"The girl. Caroline Tremain?" Silence. "Ginger, bout 5"2, a little _too_ cute, accused of murdering her late husband…"

"The bubbly one?"

Alicia thought of the bright smile, the red cheeks, the voice a little too high-pitched. "Yeah."

"No."

"No what?"

"I haven't got anything."

"Oh."

What now? Alicia pondered. She didn't want to work and she was bored. Hell, if the kids ever moved out, she would drive herself mad. Maybe she didn't like people, but she wasn't exactly a large fan of nothing either.

"Yeah," Kalinda murmured.

"I guess… Call me if you get anything."

"Yup."

"Bye."

Alicia was about to hang up when Kalinda stopped her. "Oh, and Alicia?"

"Yeah?"

"Relax." She could hear the smile in the woman's voice. It made her smile.

"I'll try."

She hung up and looked around the kitchen, finishing what she had left in her glass. Not even halfway through her first afternoon in the house and she was already bored. She didn't want to look at the files, even if she probably should have.

Outside, a light rain had built up again cutting out the chance to go do something outside. Not that she would have. But now that she couldn't, she wanted to. Instead she poured herself yet another glass, grabbed the bottle and a rug, and headed to the lounge to curl up with a book on her iPad.

Relax, she told herself.

Don't worry, I'll help, the bottle of wine replied.

. . . . . . . . . .

Please, please, please, PLEASE tell me what you think. xoxo


End file.
